


in your breath (our worlds collide)

by MarkedMage



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Smut, Wedding Night, i butchered the word limit, so so so soft, soft smut, this is soft, zutara wedding night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:28:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26765065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarkedMage/pseuds/MarkedMage
Summary: Loving Zuko, she notes, has always been an art. She paints their love across his skin like a canvas, love pressed into his temple and his lips, love burned into their intertwined fingers. But that's an innocent love, love meant for the eyes of others. This love, this raw, bared love they're sharing in this moment, with parted silks and gasping breaths, is something entirely different, and yet tastes just as sweet.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 175
Collections: Zutara Smut Exchange





	in your breath (our worlds collide)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thewhiitelotus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewhiitelotus/gifts).



> Hi guys! Here's my submission for the ZK smut exchange (part 1 of 2), written for the lovely @thewhiitelotus. We were SUPPOSED to have a limit of 2k, but apparently 3 times in not the charm, for I have gone over it a whopping extent. Still I hope you enjoy some soft wedding smut, because that's what ZK deserves.
> 
> Please let me know what you think! And stay tuned for another smutty installment of "how much over can Mage go over the word limit", coming to you *hopefully* this Sunday.

_"Oh, love is a journey with water and stars,_   
_with drowning air and storms of flour;_   
_love is a clash of lightnings,_   
_two bodies subdued by one honey."_   
_– Pablo Neruda || "Sonnet 12"_

~0~

He enters, soft and quiet, like a wisp of smoke. She sits, sheer silk draped over her shoulders, and his eyes are like twin embers. She shudders under his heated gaze, her body heated from his eyes alone, as he draws near. Zuko walks with a purpose, powerful, confident, and the way his skin glistens in the firelight reminds her of the southern star. 

"Katara," he whispers as he settles before her. He's wearing a simple silk tunic, blood-red and tinged with gold, and as he leans down, she tastes the spiced wine that lingers on his breath. " _Katara."_

She smiles, touching his chin, curling her fingers over his jaw. He leans into her touch, eyes fluttering close, and his chest rumbles as he shifts closer. "It's something so surreal," she murmurs, and he opens gentle golden eyes that seem to pierce her to the core. "I can't believe-"

"I know," he murmurs, and his hand wraps around her leg. "Earlier, when you were walking down the aisle, with Sokka and your father by your side-" he chokes, and there are tears in his eyes as he leans in, "-I thought I was dreaming. Who would have ever thought we'd be where we are today?"

She remembers a time where she and Zuko were on opposing sides of a war, a time when fire and ice fought tooth and nail, all for the sake of finding their place in this world. Looking at him now, she still sees that fire child, the boy who dances among the lightning strikes, and she wonders if there was ever a chance where it wasn't her and him, at the end. Because she can't, for the life of her, imagine a life where she doesn't belong to him, and he doesn't belong to her. 

Maybe because Katara and Zuko were always meant to be.

She smiles. "You were always special to me," she says, and he catches her hand, pressing the barest brush of a kiss across her knuckles. "But being able to finally-"

"I know, love, I know," he tells her fiercely, and he drops down, resting his chin against her thigh, and the brush of his scar against her skin has her trembling, heat pooling in her core. "You and me, like it was always meant to be." 

"Zuko," she returns, curling a hand around the nape of his neck, reaching for the silk tie holding his hair back. His eyes don't leave hers, and he trails a hand up her arms, tantalizing and soft. His hair falls around them both like the night sky as he kneels, the silk tie falling down to the floor, and he presses a kiss to her wrist.

"You look beautiful," he tells her. His fingers twine through hers, scarred and calloused, but all hers. "Before, at the ceremony, draped in the furs of your people, I thought you were the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to her throat, and she sucks in a breath, his lips dancing across her skin like a whisper of wind. "But now, looking at you here in my- _our-_ room, you are the most beautiful thing I've ever known." His free hand rises, reaching for her face, gracing over her cheekbones, before going for the tie that keeps her crown in check. _"Firelady Katara."_

She gasps, and he pulls away, eyes sincere, burning with love and lust and the heat of a thousand suns. "Are you nervous?" His hands aren't idle, he runs them down her uncovered arms, enticing goosebumps and heats of pleasure in their wake; around the back of her neck and down her waist, where they linger, in the hollow of her hips, and she dreams of bruises blooming in the shape of his lips there. 

"No," she says, and it's the truth. Katara has never been afraid, not since the wake of her mother's death, and she doesn't plan on starting now. Not with Zuko- _never_ Zuko. She wasn't scared for the marriage ceremony, the weight of the Fire Nation and her own country resting on her shoulders as she accepted the mantle, and she certainly wasn't scared of binding herself to a boy of Fire blessed by the moon country. "Never."

His eyes soften, and a wry grin touches his lips. "I love you," he whispers, his lips hovering close to hers. "So much. You know that, right?"

She leans in, mouth parted, and he smiles, teasing a kiss with his breath, tongue darling out, and she groans in frustration as he pulls away. "Tell me," he breathes, and his hand rises to cup her face, forcing her eyes open to bleed into his. "You love me."

She nods. "I do," she whispers. "I always have." _Always will_ , she thinks, and his gaze softens, as if he hears it, and he leans in, pressing his lips against hers in a bruising kiss.

In the shadows, Zuko's face is hidden behind the flickering dark of the flames dancing across the room, but she can smell the spice on his breath, taste the fire on his tongue, the smoke that clings to him. Kissing him, Katara feels her worries bleeding away, like the same moment they solidified their union before the world. But now, in this moment, there is no father and no Sokka, no Aang and Iroh and Toph. In this moment, suspended in time, it is her and Zuko, husband and wife, Firelord and Lady of the Moon. Like it was always meant to be.

He kisses her like she's always wanted to be kissed- like no boy had ever kissed her before, soft and moist and gentle and fierce, like he's trying to map a constellation of her heart with his love across her lips. She gasps against his mouth, hot and breathy, and thinks this kiss is like a battle, give and take and push and pull, and for once, Katara gives, letting him push her against the silk sheets of the bed, cool to the touch compared to Zuko's electrifying kiss. The heat rises in her cheeks as he goes for the tie keeping her shift together, but he brushes her nerves away like the wind, pulling away far enough so he can press his lips against her forehead. "Do you trust me?" He breathes against her skin, and her hands scrabble against his tunic as she nods. 

"Yes," she gasps, and he pulls away, eyes blazing, and she takes this opportunity to tear his tunic away from his shoulders, baring pale, moonkissed skin, and the star he bears for her. "Please, Zuko," she whispers, and he leans in, pressing his lips against hers. His tongue is soft, quick and electrifying in a breath, then firm and determined and delicious, and his hands tear the silk from her shoulders as easily as snapping a twig.

His hand touches her, gentle like a baby sparrowkeet, and she sucks in a breath as his hands ghost over her breasts, hesitant and careful. She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him close, and whispers _please_ against his skin, arching into his touch. 

"Katara," he breaths, and his voice is strained. She scrabbles at his back, body arching against his, legs wrapping around his slip hips, and he gasps, thumb rolling her nipple as he moans into her neck. He rolls his hips against hers, hot and insistent, and she can feel the hard length of him desperate against her core. 

Loving Zuko, she notes, has always been an art. She paints their love across his skin like a canvas, love pressed into his temple and his lips, love burned into their intertwined fingers. But that's an innocent love, love meant for the eyes of others. This love, this raw, bared love they're sharing in this moment, with parted silks and gasping breaths, is something entirely different, and yet tastes just as sweet.

He pulls away, but doesn't stray far, lips pressing against the pulse at her throat as his hand dances across her breast. His touch is like the fire, she thinks, as her mind clouds over with lust, body flaring in want as he rolls her nipples in his fingers. She can feel him grin against her skin as she cries out, body arching at his touch, she digs her nails deep into his skin. 

He glides down her body, hands mapping out their path along her skin like rivers bleeding out across her body, and she shivers in delight at the press of his lips against her breasts, her thighs, her knees. He comes close to the heat at her core, making her arch and cry out, and the dry press of his scarred skin against the inside of her thigh makes her flare with want.

"You're beautiful," she hears him say, and then his mouth presses against her, slow and purposeful, and her lips part in a soundless cry of pleasure.

"Zuko," she gasps, lifting her head. He's looking up at her, eyes gleaming and pupils flared black. His tongue is slow and sure against her, flicking against that little bundle of nerves at her core that makes her gasp and whine, and she drops back to the mattress. His hand finds her breast, rolls her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and his tongue flicks insistently against her, drawing moans from her lips until she's seeing stars.

He swirls his tongue, driving it deeper, suckling against that bundle of nerves that makes her stomach pool with want. It's impossible to keep her eyes open; she slumps against the pillows, hands clenching the sheets as her thighs tighten around his head. He shifts, abandoning her breast, and slides it under her thigh to pull her closer.

"Zuko," she murmurs, and he hums, making her breath stutter. 

His hand finds her core, rubbing circles as his tongue moves, and the heat drops low in her belly, coiling tighter as he moves, fingers dipping into her folds and teasing at her core. 

He pulls away, and she looks up, meeting his gaze as he crawls up her body. His hand lingers, teasing at her core as he hovers above her, mouth wet and eyes blown out. "Fuck, Katara," he breathes, and his voice is hoarse. He lowers his head, kissing her breasts, tongue dancing across her nipples, and she keens as his fingers dive deeper. "You taste so good."

His hand is insistent, demanding- hot and torturous and powerful, much like the fire he wields. But there's something electrifying about Zuko's touch, the searing brand of his lips on her skin, the way his fingers burn within her. Like lightning, only this time, it's controlled and precise, sending waves of pleasure radiating from her core.

She wraps her arms around his neck, brings her face in his throat, and he mouths against her collarbone. "Zuko," she moans, and his fingers are punishing, thumb curling against her core, and she arches. She cries out, head thrown back, and he bites her throat. 

"Beautiful," she hears him whisper, but she's too far gone, starlight bursting behind her eyes as she comes down from her high. She gasps, breath slowly returning to her, and drops back against the sheets, Zuko following her down, heart beating in tandem with hers.

She feels the hard length of him pressing up against her core, and the heat within her flares up again. She blinks, dazed, and reaches for him, fumbling with the ties on his pants. He whines, deep and low in his throat, as she grasps him, running her fingers over his velvety skin. He bucks into her touch, chasing after her with his lips searching for skin, and she laughs, giving into his kisses as he thrusts into her hand, aching with need. She touches him once more, before pulling her hand away, spreading her legs and pulling him close to her aching core.

"Are you sure?" He pants, pulling away to look down at her. His eyes are flared and desperate, voice strained and breathy. His hips flex against her hand, subtly thrusting even as he holds himself up, trembling, and she can see the restraint coiling in his arms. "Only if you're sure."

She presses her lips to his, pulling him into a deep kiss, tasting herself on his tongue as she works his pants off his hips. He shucks his pants off and dives back for her, wrapping his arms around her body and pulling her off the bed, flush against his hips. Her hair falls like a silk curtain around them as he holds her up, breasts pressed against his chest, and she meets his molten gaze. She sits there, for a moment as the world stills, and thinks there's a whole universe to be explored in Zuko's gaze.

He brushes his nose against her, kisses her once, twice, so softly it brings tears to her eyes. She keeps her eyes open- because he is beautiful and she can't, _doesn't want_ , to miss this. He smiles, and she kisses him, grinding down softly against him as he groans.

"I love you," he tells her earnestly, and brushes his lips against hers like the summer breeze. The hard length of him grazes her folds, making her mewl and grind down against him, even as he buries his face into her hair. "So much."

"I love you too," she gasps, and throws her head back. "Please, Zuko."

He mumbles something incoherent into her hair, maybe something that sounds startingly like her name, but then he's pressing against her, _into_ her, and she gasps, sinking down onto him until her hips are pulled flush against his own. He moans, turning his head to kiss her, and she gasps into his mouth as he thrusts.

 _Katara, Katara, Katara,_ she hears him breathe, and she mouths at the skin of his shoulder, biting down as he rocks into her. The stinging ache of him inside her slowly fades as waves of pleasure begin to lap at her subconscious, like waves against the shore, and she moans, tightening her arms around his neck as she throws her head back.

She arches against him as he moves within her, purposefully, powerfully, and her nails dig into his back. "Zuko, Zuko, Zuko," she hears herself cry out- maybe like a mantra, but more like a prayer- head flying back as he mouths at her breasts. His hands grasps at her hips, moving her up and down in time with his thrusts, heat coiling within her. She cries out, opening her eyes to see him watching her, pupils blown and mouth parted as he watches her ride him. But it's not enough- she wants him closer, above her and around her, and so she tugs at his hair, insistent and pleading.

"I-I need you," she begs out, and it's breathy and needy and harsh, but he senses her urgency. _I got you,_ she thinks she hears him say, and he kisses her, thrusting hard up into her that makes her cry out, shivering with want.

He pulls out, letting her fall back to the mattress, and follows, sinking back into her with a sigh. He's hot and thick and so so right, and the feel of him inside her is almost too sweet to bear. She wraps her arms and legs around him, heels digging into the dimples of his back, and he groans, gutteral and deep. "Fuck, Katara," he moans, and thrusts into her. She cries out, hands digging into his skin, and moans as his fingers find her core. There's a smirk on his lips as he brushes across her temple, his teasing fingers eliciting whimpers even as he continues to thrust torturously deep within her. 

"Zuko," she breathes, and he slows down just enough for him to look at her. Maybe it's the heat of the moment, or the space between breaths hanging heavy with warmth, but the look in his eyes is tender as he stares down at her. "I love you," she says, and he smiles, fond and gentle, and leans in to kiss her forehead. 

"I love you so much," he tells her, pulling away to press his forehead against hers. She gasps as his free hand grasps at her waist, hitching her leg high over his hip. "Fuck, Katara, I love you."

"I know," she gasps, tightening her trip around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his throat. "I know, Zuko- _spirits_ , I know." He arches against her, trembling and aching, and she pulls him close. "Come on, Zuko," she begs. He's already made her come once, and she can probably do it again, but she wants to see what he looks like when he falls apart. She imagines a sunset bleeding out across the sea, water and fire coming together, so she wraps her legs tight around him, and arches her back, pulling him closer, deeper, _harder_ , until he curses with need.

"Are you sure?" He asks her, voice soft and strained. She nods, pulling him close, and he threads a lock of her hair between his fingers. "Spirits, Katara," he breaths, and drops his head to her shoulder, nipping at her skin. 

It doesn't take long after that. They're a mess of tangled limbs and stolen breaths- Zuko has a habit of stealing the air from her lungs, and it's no different in this moment, except somehow she can elicit the same response. He kisses her, sharing the breath they've equally stolen, and she takes the love on his tongue as he thrusts. She cries out, wanton and needy, and his hand dips down to her core, circling that spot that makes constellations explode behind her eyelids. "Come with me," she hears him whisper, voice low and ragged, thrusts staggered and desperate, and she manages to whisper out his name before she arches into his touch, mouth open in a silent cry.

She collapses against the mattress. Zuko groans, low and needy, and thrusts twice more before stiffening against her, breath harsh and ragged, before dropping his weight against her. "Sorry," he mumbles against her throat, and she pats at the sweaty skin of his neck. "I'll move in a minute."

She shakes her head, keeping him pulled close against her. "I like it," she murmurs, and he chuckles against her skin.

He _does_ roll off her eventually, but he doesn't stray far, opting to turn them both on their sides facing each other. He cups her cheek, brushes her sweaty hair off her face. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asks, eyes dropping to her bare form. She shakes her head, stretching and drapes a hand over his waist, snuggling in close against the heat of him.

"I'll be okay," she murmurs. "You could never hurt me."

He sighs, tightens his grip on her, and slides his hand around her hip, pulling her close until they're aligned. "I wish that were true-"

"None of that, Zuko," she murmurs, and presses a hand against the starburst painted across his chest. "I didn't marry you just to hear you mope all day. Don't ruin our wedding night by the past, Zuko."

He looks at her through his lashes, and she brushes his sweaty bangs out of his face. "I'm sorry," he tells her, and she sighs, leaning in to kiss him softly.

"None of that," she says, when she pulls back, and he chases after her, blinking soft golden eyes in her wake. "I married you Zuko, not for the fame or the glory, but because I love you, for the person you are. Nothing you've done can change that."

He sighs. "I don't deserve you," but he wraps his arm tighter around her. "But I'm going to make sure I spend the rest of my life hoping I do."

She laughs, and leans her forehead against his. "You already are."

He laughs, and they cuddle for a few minutes, tangled in the sheets, the moonlight painting the room silver. After a while, Zuko manages to wrangle her from the sheets, pulling her into the bathroom to run a warm bath. Under the water, Katara laces her fingers through his, pulls him close, and presses a searing kiss to his lips.

"I'm nervous," she tells him, leaning against his warm chest. His legs wrap around her, and she sighs in the crook of his neck. "To be the Firelady."

"The people love you," Zuko tells her, and kisses her temple. "I'm not worried. The future's in our hands, however we see fit. With you at my side, I know everything will be okay."

They slip back to the bed afterwards, and Zuko wraps her in his arms, pulling her in so her back is pressed against his chest. "I love you, Katara," he whispers, and she mumbles sleepily. "With all my heart."

She kisses his wrist, feels his pulse flickering faintly against her lips like the heartbeat of a baby sparrowkeet, and smiles sleepily. "I love you too, Zuko," she whispers, and he turns the firelight down with a flick of his hand.

But just for one moment, you can see the moonlight reflecting off the flickering flames- and it's fitting. Like the sun and moon coming together for one last dance before surrending to the night. Just like it's meant to be.

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
